however, raised him from the cask on which he had been sitting, when his hat fell off, and out flew a pocket-book and a handkerchief, both of which Sylvester at once recognized as being his. He therefore picked them up, in order to satisfy himself, and having done so, said to the fellow with great severity of expression, "You are a bad man—a very bad man."
"What!" cried Tom, "do they belodg to you?"
"Yes," replied Sylvester; and Tom was about to inflict summary vengeance, but Sylvester held him back, exclaiming, "Pray don't hurt him! He's tipsy, Tom! He knew not, perhaps, what he was about!"
"Dodsedse," cried Tom, who turned to rush at the fellow fiercely, but by this time Tom's friends had kicked him into the street.
"Now Tom," said Sylvester, "pray let us go."
"Yes, we'll go dow," said Tom, "We'll go dow. Are you sure that you have got all you lost?"
"Yes, quite sure—quite."
"Very well, we'll just have a couple of bottles of soda-water to wash the chabpagde dowd, and thed we'll be off."
For Tom's sake, Sylvester consented to this, and when they had drank the soda-water and taken leave of the bar-maid, to whom Sylvester bowed with great politeness—they bade their friends good night, and started.
"Well," said Tom, "we have seed a little life."
"Life," thought Sylvester, "it is life, indeed!—But," said he, "do you not feel somewhat tipsy?"
"Dot at all!" replied Tom. "It would dever do to go hobe touched. They'd sbell a rat id a bobedt! I always, whed I get a little extra, cure byself before I go hobe."
"Cure yourself."
"Of course: I cad always do that in five bidites."
"Indeed!"
"Oh! yes. I expected that I should have to cure you, but I fidd you can stadd it as well as the best of us."
"But you do not drink so much as you have drunk to night often?"
"Oh, just as it happeds. If you associate with fellows like those, you bust dridk: dot that I care about it buch."
"Then why do you associate with them?"
"I'll tell you. There was a tibe whed I was wud of the bost steady fellows goidg—whed all was right at hobe—whed hobe was ad attractiod: I thed studied hard—attedded lectures with the utmost regularity, add so od—but always wedt hobe for relaxatiod, for thed I was fodd of my hobe: sobetibes I sat add sugg with the old lady—sobetibes she would play sub dew busic to abuse be—sobtibes we got the chessboard—sobtibes the cards—sobetibes she got be to read a dew dovel, and sobtibes we had a little party at hobe—there was always sobethidg lively goidg od—I could always fide sub sort of abusebedt—but sidce the old swell has becub so edaboured of our dew parsod everythidg at hobe has beed wretched, dull, forbal, and cold. It is to this I ascribe by associatiod with those whob we have just left; for although they are all fide
